


Analog, Pirates and Radios

by lakemonsters



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: M/M, Music Business AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakemonsters/pseuds/lakemonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A music business AU where Sanada Yukimura is the heir of a prestigious record label. Sarutobi Sasuke is his caretaker.  The story also peeks into the lives of Mouri Motonari - the ever-capable VP and Chosokabe Motochika and Maeda Keiji - members of the art department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Feels Like You Know It All

**Author's Note:**

> This story doesn't really have a set timeline and all the drabble installments are self-indulgent but hopefully not confusing. It should still make sense and feel like they belong to the same universe. Also, this story is old and was written some time September 2010 when I couldn't sleep and wanted to go ANIKIIII in the middle of the night.

Sasuke gave him the impression that he knew it all, that no secret’s been left undiscovered and that the world had only little bits of trivia to offer. Sanada pondered and absently chewed on the cap of his pen. He was part of the circle but he really wasn’t part of the conversation. So he watched instead and listened as Sasuke picked and read through the sleeves and explained the songs printed on them. He was a walking, talking discography vault, he knew the artists, the album and the production details in verbatim. Sanada’s heard of rock stars being born as rock stars. But he’s never really encountered a natural born audiophile. It just doesn’t happen, it’s something you learn and acquire through years of exposure. It’s kind of like being the Hulk. He wonders if Sasuke will one day turn green and destroy everything around him. Sanada sighs a little and goes back to what he was doing – which really was just watching Sasuke’s display of mastery over all things music. He stops paying attention when Sasuke falls silent and puts on his ear phones.

*

Sharing a ride home isn’t all that strange anymore. How long have they been doing this? For as long as he can remember, Sasuke’s always been there, always shared some form of space with him. They don’t exactly talk or share words of close friendship, he was simply there and Sanada did not mind it one bit. It’s all too clear to him that Sasuke’s his father’s prodigy of sorts. Sasuke’s the son of his father’s closest friends, after all, his parents ran a marketing firm that catered mostly to clients from the music industry. It’s a long-standing partnership that goes down years and years – back when music was still recorded on black vinyl.

So, maybe, his father saw great potential in Sasuke even when he was a kid. Unlike Sanada, he was always present and listened to what the Executive of Tiger Kai Productions said. And most of all Sasuke understood the meaning of dealing with music. Sanada was more into martial arts and kung fu movies and video games – his life therefore was with a more generalized soundtrack. Sometimes, it was hard enough to watch himself falter and fumble in front of his father – even harder to see his father overlook those fumblings and encourage himself to do what he wants. But they are like ice cubes drifting in a small glass, where his father and Sasuke are drawn close until they merge and Sanada’s slowly melting, melting away.

“Danna, you seem to be thinking deeply about something…”

They are almost home and Sasuke doesn’t mind breaking the silence. It makes Sanada laugh a little, this habit of Sasuke’s – calling him Danna. Sanada doesn’t really encourage it but he’s done nothing to actually stop it. Maybe it’s because he feels good knowing that it’s a name that’s just for him and him alone. And that if someone said Danna, even if he was thrown into a sea of people, he’d always know that it was Sasuke calling out to him.

“Just the party tonight.”

“What about it?”

“What do you mean, what about it? You already know.” Sanada frowns a little.

“Danna, you don’t have to talk about things you don’t want to. You don’t have to impress them, in fact they have to impress you and the Boss. It’s your house and your party. Stop fretting.”

“It’s so easy for you to say. You know all these things and and and music’s just not for me." Sanada looks out the window and sinks deeper into self-consciousness. He can be very spoiled at times because he grew up with everything he needed and wanted, handed to him immediately after his request or even before so. It’s so easy to be self-centered and childish.

“Danna…” That tone always makes Sanada listen a bit more closely.

“What is it?”

“The party tonight is for your father’s company. It’s not about you and it’s not a Quiz Show. Support your father by being there for him. It’s all he ever asked for from you. Now…if it makes you feel better, I can help you with some things about some topics before the party.”

“You will?!” The glint in his eyes and the big smile on Sanada’s face are good ammunition to make Sasuke scratch his chin, line-face and look out the window. 

“Yes, of course. Now don’t sulk anymore, you know that it will only worry your father.”

*

“Music is not really rocket science, Danna. Try giving me a band or a musician you like and I can help you trace them back to older artists and all that. It’s a knowledge that keeps on giving…” 

“So it’s kind of like martial arts, when the teacher passes on the techniques and sensibilities to his students and his students do the same…”

“Yes. very much like that, only with music it’s a wider scope, more open interpretation and not confined to one language…”

“Whoa…”

They are on Sanada’s bed studying Music Appreciation 101, the class conducted by Sasuke. He’s been true to his word and as promised he’s helping Sanada get over his anxiety. Flopped on their stomachs, still in their high school uniform with an open binder in front of them. Sasuke holds a pen and starts doodling something on the empty page. He draws a big box and writes down a name of band in it and draws arrows heading south of the page.

“Okay, let’s start here…do you know The Beatles?”

“Yes. They’re the reason why father started a music company. He wanted to discover musicians, help them get their music out. He always listens to their records and he said that at one point before my birth he wanted to name me Ringo.”

“I’m glad he didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Nevermind. Okay, back on topic. We can say that The Beatles is the ‘Master’ and their music ‘The Teachings’ and all the new artists of today are ‘The Disciples’. Now give me a band or musician you know well…”

“I like HY the Okinawa band.” Sanada says, thinking back to the CDs he owned and trying to remember the name of the band he listened to most. He sees Sasuke writing the name of the band on the sheet of paper and starts drawing more arrows and boxes going north of the page. 

“Okay so look here – that’s HY– their influences can be traced to garage rock and Seattle Grunge which was a reaction to the excessive 80s Glam Rock style and Metal Music…” Sasuke keeps writing "The Beatles’ song Helter Skelter is the first ‘metal’ song and has been interpreted by band after band after band that we know of today….”

He shows Sanada the chart they’ve just formulated together.

“There you go, Danna. That’s your very own mini-music tree.”

The smile on Sanada’s face was something Sasuke wished he could tattoo somewhere or take a snapshot of with his mobile phone. But then again, that would be very uncool. He moves but the bed would allow so little space and they bump hips and sock-clad feet and legs tangle. They struggle for a bit, find themselves in an almost compromising position and then laugh.

“Do you feel better now, Danna?”

“I do.”

*

No party was ever a problem for Sanada ever again. He stuck to what he knew best, didn’t pretend, didn’t try to be as knowledgeable as his father or Sasuke or Oyamada (his father’s secretary). He tried his best not to fall into Date Masamune’s taunting either (‘You know so little!’ / ‘You don’t know how to party at all!’ / ‘You’re not rock n’ roll enough!’), even if Date Masamune is the the son and heir of the CEO of their rival company. Sanada, of course, failed sometimes and got into small fist fights with him (only to be stopped by Masamune’s bodyguard Kojuro and Sasuke). It’s like a ritual for them, a routine thing for every party they attended.

It was, for their fathers, a friendly rivalry.

Though tonight was different and after the last guest had left, Sanada was left to account for a bruised cheek, a broken vase and his father’s disapproval. The fight went on too long and too far and it was only Kojuro that actively tried to stop the fight. Sasuke was tasked to entertain and eloquently answer concerns by Echigo Records’ liaison, Kasuga. Sasuke physically couldn’t. 

“Yukimura…fighting is alright but fighting when you’re too drunk is foolishness! And I hope that Masamune boy gets scolded by his father too. And you…” Sanada all but cringed where he stood “…are grounded for the week. Because your behavior was inexcusable and i I didn’t know you better – you were throwing a tantrum. ”

“WHAT!? Father! I have kendo and…”

He is silenced by a strong and devastating blow delivered by his father that leaves his face numb and ears ringing.

*

He’s sitting on his bed when Sasuke comes in – having been a silent witness to that argument between father and son – he brings up an ice pack and tells Sanada to tild his head a little. He puts pressure on the bruise using the ice pack and instructing Sanada to hold it like that. “Is that your only injury, Danna? Tell me.” Sasuke gestures to the first aid kit that he brought up just for Sanada.

“Nothing else, this is the only one.”

“Well then, I should get going.” Sasuke stands up and rolls up the sleeves of his formal dress shirt higher.

“Are you going to sleep?”

“No. There’s still work to be done. Your father’s company is organizing a big outdoor event. All the musicians signed to his label will be headlining…as you know that involves a lot of paperwork so I have to help your father’s team.”

Sanada looked on a bit lost, he never gave thought to the things that his father did after his parties or the actual work he put in for his company. Sanada hasn’t visited Tiger Kai Records often enough to know what the people there did or to fully immerse himself in the business. His father was always making allowances for him, Sasuke was always making allowances for him…

“Is it okay if I join you? I want to help.”

It was a first and though Sasuke knew that the work to be done is tedious and important, he also was not going to turn down Sanada’s offer. Not when he was being this sincere and willing. “Of course. I am sure that your father will be more than happy to see you there…taking interest.”

*

They built the make-shift office in one of the guest houses in the compound, this is because Takeda was getting old and there were times he didn’t want to take the hour-long drive to work. This was a better deal and everyone got to sleep on a decent bed and were fed home-cooked meals. He liked to keep his employees happy and treated them like family. So, when Sasuke pulled the doors open, Sanada had to stop and stare. Weren’t they just partying with them a while ago?

They were still in their formal wear, a bit disheveled but everyone looked content doing their job. The big room smelled of coffee and pastries. Sanada spots his father, signing papers at his desk. The man glances at him and then at Sasuke – as if telling him ‘he’s your responsibility, I’m too busy and too angry with him tonight’. And as always, Sasuke understood.

“Come on, Danna, this will be our work place.”

He leads them to a small table in the corner of the room. Four seats – with two occupied and two available. “Danna, this is Mori, your father’s VP for Internal Affairs and that one is Chika Head for Creative. This is the Boss’ only son, he’ll be helping with some paper work.”

Chika was nice and warm and accommodating even complimenting Sasuke for his good punches and the shiner he was nursing. He also taught Sanada what to do – and that was to highlight the names of the bands that were going to perform on the particular day and their given time slot. One color for each band. Sasuke did a more technical task while Mori kept to himself, ignoring every compliment thrown at him by Chika. And it seemed like the night was getting better until Mori examined of the papers and slammed the sheet in the middle of the table.

“A simple instruction and you cannot even get it right?”

Sanada blinked. 

“Oi, oi Mori don’t rag on the boy…” Chika said.

Sasuke himself stopped what he was typing on his laptop. “What did he do?”

“Inconsistencies. The color and band do not match with the code we had already given them. Are you colorblind?” Mori looked straight at Sanada. he was not about to hide his irritation. Each and everyone of them had been working for weeks, pulling in long hours for this project and a simple mistake like this was bound to make it fail. Being the CEOs son was not going to be an excuse. “You are here to help, right? You can do that by doing things right.”

Sanada stood up both confused, embarassed at his mistake. “I’m really sorry…I…”

“I’ll correct all the mistakes that he did tonight. It’s just a matter of reprinting and re-doing the highlights, Mori.”

“Yeah…cut the boy some slack…” Chika said.

“Shut up. Long-term liabilities like yourself have no say in this matter.” Mori glared at Chika then at Sanada.

Sanada bowed low and reproachful, it was all he could do to keep from crying or yelling out what an utter failure he is. truly a fish that is out of his element. He moves to walk briskly out of the guest house – hearing Chika and Sasuke call out for him to wait. But he doesn’t and he only stops walking when he reaches the enormous koi pond that his father had built to house his prized tosai kohaku. 

*

“Danna, you’re really making me work hard tonight…”

Sasuke’s voice was calm as he approached, walking from behind the bench that he was sitting on. Sanada looks up and shrugs softly. Apologetic and for tonight he’s really given up on trying to be anything for anyone. he ruined his father’s party, almost sabotaged his father’s business and most of all he kept disappointing Sasuke. That’s how bad the situation’s gotten.

“I’m sorry for that.”

Sasuke sits down beside him and slumps back to rest his head on the back-rest of the bench. Sasuke does not flinch when a firefly lands quietly on his forehead. Something which makes Sanada smile a little.

“Mori is just tired, he’s got a lot of responsibilities.”

“I know…”

“So comeback inside we’ll sit with Chika and…” 

Sanada cuts him off “…I know why father let you stay with us. I know now why you are here and it’s because you get what he’s doing and that you are a big help to him. far more than I could ever be to…”

Then Sasuke cuts him off “…I don’t stick around because of the Boss…”

“Then why do you…” Sanada asks a bit confused. “Who knows.” Sasuke smiles at him, still not moving as the firefly continues to glow on his forehead. “And who knows what will happen to you if I am not around.”

He lifts his hand to scratch the bridge of his nose and glance at Sasuke’s funny form. Thinking back, when he was eleven and Sasuke was thirteen – they met for the first time and have been together ever since. Thinking back, he was the first true friend that he ever truly made in his life; because Sanada was always so stubborn and spoiled and impulsive. Their was really no one that could keep up with him, except -

“Take responsibility for this shiner.” Sanada points to his flourishing bruise. 

It kind of makes sense now. And for tonight, he can assume that he knows the actual reason why Sasuke stays.

“Don’t mind if I do.” he says.

The firefly swiftly takes off leaving trails of light behind it when Sasuke moves closer and closer and closer...


	2. Light Travels; Long Term Liabilities

When Mouri Motonari comes home from work, the first thing he does is walk to the refrigerator and get himself a bottle of lemon flavored water, he will drink it primly before throwing the bottle inside the recycle bin. He does this out of habit, never mind walking across his apartment in the dark, he trusts that everything is in place and that his floor plan has not changed in the span of 9 hours. 

Then Mouri will go to the spare room, open the door and yell at Chika – his housemate – to keep it down with the electric guitar, he reminds him that he should be doing some paper work instead of playing around. They work with musicians but they are not musicians. He kills chika’s buzz just like that; it’s something they are both used to and does not come as a surprise to Motochika.

"I need to sleep so keep it down. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Motochika does not argue and simply sets his guitar against the wall and turns on the neglected laptop on the desk. “Hey, I gotta ask you something though…last night…did you really mean it? Calling me a long term liability in front of the boss' son? I mean come on Mouri, I know I slack of now and then but am I really that useless?”

“I never said your were useless.”

“Then what did you mean? Long term liability is synonymous with?”

“Untapped potential.” 

Mouri says unmoved and his voice cold from fatigue and being up for close to 48 hours because of the outdoor music event they are rushing before the rains come to bid this season farewell. It makes Motochika wonder if Mouri’s complimenting him or burying him some more under insult and crazy codes that he can’t keep up with. “Might I remind you that I am older than you and have been in the company years before you…”

“Which is why it’s frustrating to watch. You live like a college student and not allow yourself to be the most you can be.” To Mouri there are little glimmers of greatness if you look at the other man closely. The savoir faire he keeps under this layer of carefree living. “It was not an insult. I merely said what was on my mind.”

“Is that supposed to help me, though?” Chika asks and the brittle tone is obvious, his gaze not wavering.

“I'm not your keeper.” Mouri says with finality before turning around and closing the door behind him. 

He secures a barrier between him and his friend before he goes to his room, sits on his bed and pulls off his Sonia Rykiel tie. He tries not to think about Motochika or the things he’s said recently because Motochika is a man of his own no matter what happens. 

No, what Mouri said was more about helping *himself* because it’ll be bad if he lets himself get swept away; because men like Motochika can make men like Mouri - utterly useless.


	3. Home is a box with a roof over it

Motochika's dead serious in playing 'people are strange' by the doors, he likes that band and thinks that he's a little strange himself, which means that the song's more like an anthem to him. He has the apartment to himself for about a week now since mouri's out of town on that event he's been fussing over for weeks. if there was ever a time to let loose, the time would be now. He also has the volume of his amp turned up and it's a miracle that he even senses the light buzz when his blackberry vibrates on the desk, sees that four calls came before this one: 2 from Keiji, 1 from Masamune and 1 from his Takeda (Boss). 

Current caller is Mouri and Chika thinks that his Motonari radar's getting sharper by the day. 

Of all the calls, really, of all the calls...

"Pizza Hut. How can I help you?"

"Chosokabe Motochika stop being silly all the time and why are you home it's only six. You should be working..."

"Last time I checked my hours are from 8 to 5. I don't want to work overtime unlike some people." He smiles not really understanding why or maybe he does and just doesn't want to think about it that much. "What's up?"

It's rare for Mouri to not have an immediate and sharp answer, it's rare for Mouri to call at all. It's not alarming, just strange, so Motochika shifts in his seat and moves the phone from one ear to the other. "Hello? Mouri?" In the background he can hear the faint sounds of construction, probably the stage that's going to be used for the night. The event is a week long and they have two more nights to go. He waits for Mouri to say something but when he doesn't - Motochika fills in - 

"What happened, is it work?" 

"Yes, something like that." But Mouri's stingy with his answer.

The cogs in Motochika's head begin turning and he goes back to what happened at the office today, selectively recalling one of his staff (assigned to the field) saying that some bigwig of theirs clammed up during a meeting and that "it was a good think Shingen-sama was there to save the day" - now it all makes sense to Motochika.

"That meeting, Mouri..."

"I had it all prepared and my materials and statistics were in place! I know this project more than anyone and no other incompetent wannabe can ever take my place as..."

"And no one will. But you run on two hours of sleep everyday and expect your brain to be all alert and happy during a meeting. Give yourself a break. did Shingen-sama get angry?"

"No...which is confusing, because he should be, he really should be..."

"What did he tell you?"

"...to get some rest..."

"I know you hate it when I speak my mind but I agree with the boss here. And I would prefer that you sit back in your hotel room and sleep because I think that you already did what you can for this project and it's running okay because of you and it's okay to rest easy...but you never listen to me so it's all really up to what you want, Mouri. What do you want?"

"How are my plants, you watered them like I told you, right? Did they deliver the two boxes of groceries I called in before i left?" The reply is stiff but isn't as superior as Motochika's used to and he's known him a long time to know how to pick out the meaning behind those words: I want to come home.

"Mouri, what do you want?" Patient as ever.

No answer, just light breathing and Motochika can hear his friend move the phone to his other ear.

"Come home, Mouri Motonari. It's time to come home."

There is a sigh and the faintest "Yeah" before the line goes dead.

Motochika puts the phone down and looks at his electric guitar longingly before putting it back on the stand, he gets up and starts picking up the pieces of clothing in his room and puts them in a hamper - he goes out and arranges things, fixing up the way Mouri had left them. He places one of the boxes of mineral water on the table, tears the tape and picks out four bottles and places them in the fridge. 

They'll be cold in a few hours just in time for mouri's arrival.


	4. Rule of Alley Cats

The credits roll to the ending theme of the Aristocats, Motochika wipes a tear away thinking that happy endings are just awesome. That cats are so cute especially during that part when Duchess and Tom O'Malley had little kittens that looked like them. He suddenly wants a pet. 

 

"You should have watched with me, Mouri. The cats were so cute."

Motochika sits up from the sofa and turns to look at Mouri sitting at the table and devouring a book about Ikebana. It's not often that they are home together, usually his friend is busy slaving away at work trying to get everything done and lower the level of idiocy at their workplace. To be honest, Motochika does not see those 'places' their office seems fine to him and that no one's doing anything wrong. He's not that critical after all. It's a Saturday and though he should be doing basketball with Keiji, the man cancelled on him, probably a date or something. Motochika doesn't mind sudden changes like that. More power to him.

"Are you going to turn that thing off or do I have to pull the plug on your prized possessions?"

"Huh?! Oh right!" Motochika moves and grabs the remote, the apartment goes silent.

"You don't have a status meeting, it's not often that you're home on a Saturday."

"I could say the same for you. And this is my house too. I can stay if I want."

"New hobby?" Motochika peers at the cover of the book.

"Not yet. Research." Mouri puts down the book and looks straight up at Motochika 

"Go some place else, I'm reading."

Motochika grins and instead of leaving he finds the chair across Mouri as the perfect spot to perch and watch him. "What? You can't read when I'm around. I'm going to eat and since you said it's not allowed to eat anywhere else in the apartment for fear of pestilence and god knows what...I'm staying. You'll just have to read with me around." The taller man finds it amusing to talk back to Mouri once in a while. If he's lucky, his friend will answer back, if he's not the worse possible scenario is Mouri will leave him alone. 

Again. It would not be the first time.

 

Mouri just looks at him from where he is seated, primly closes his new book and hugs it to himself - as Motochika gets up to get himself food from the fridge - possibly a sandwich and a tall glass of milk - fortified skim milk of course to keep the belly away. As soon as he turns, Mouri gets up and walks to the extra room they use as a study and locks himself in there, most likely for the rest of the afternoon.

Eating alone is something he's used to, but, when his friend is home Motochika finds it absolutely unbearable, offensive, intentionally aggravating. He foregoes eating and makes a quick trip to his room to get his cigarette case. The bay window next to giant bookshelf (Mouri territory) is an autonomous space that he uses for this bad habit of his. He opens the window and sits soundly against the steel railings before lighting up. The study is in the next room - if the wind blows West he's lucky, if the wind blows East he's dead.

 

"I can smell you dying from where you are seated." Motochika cannot see Mouri but he can hear him. It makes him smile. This is nothing new to them and Mouri will never approve of this bad habit of his.

"Just a stick. I'm not dead yet."

"I said you were dying, in the process of." Mouri replies.

"Is reading that boring book really more interesting than talking to me?"

"I am talking to you."

Motochika looks at the rooftops of nearby apartments and some birds perching on the railings and then the backdrop is nothing but gray skies. "Yeah, well, you know what I mean."

"Never be idle, Motochika. I keep telling you that. Always learn, keep yourself busy and constantly improve yourself so your whole life is not for nothing." Mouri sounds convinced from where he is seated about this rule of his and this is not the first time he's told Motochika this.

And Motochika likes to listen to it over and over and over because his answer has never really changed.

"It won't be for naught..." He says in fake Shakespearean.

"Do tell." Mouri says from the other room.

"We're friends aren't we? In my opinion just knowing you makes it..."

Motochika stops when he hears Mouri move from the other room, light footsteps on the wooden floor and the window closing shut locking out the city noise, birds chirping, cigarette smoke and Motochika's voice - who then flicks his cigarette butt straight into one of Mouri's potted plants.


	5. Take Flight

Three glasses of Burton and a glass of Mild makes not a sober Mouri. He is a quiet drunk, opting to slouch against the wall and clutch his empty glass. Motochika looks at Keiji and then at his pretty lady friend; both shrug and Motochika reaches out to ruffle Mouri's head. 

 

Of course, if Mouri were sober Motochika wouldn't be able to do this - so there is an upside to this Thursday-night alcohol consumption. Keiji's impromptu invitation and Motochika's incessant whining result to Mouri's inebriation. "I guess we better head home. When he wakes up tomorrow he's going to have a massive headache and I'll be the one to suffer for it." Motochika can actually drink everyone under the table, but he's got responsibilities and the most obvious one is the woozy Vice President beside him. 

 

*

 

He thinks that getting a cab on the other side of the park will be easier. The Taxi Bay nearest the bar is full, brimming with salarymen and women just wanting to get home. He thinks that crossing the park will be easy and Mouri's no big burden.

But a drunk Mouri is a Mouri in flight -

he runs around and runs ahead of Motochika only to run back and slam against his friend's chest, arms wide open. It gives Motochika glimpses of the Mouri he knew way back when life began to get complicated for him, long before being a grown-up counted more than being friends. Motochika watches him, catches him and then sets him free again each time Mouri decides to break away.

It's okay - Motochika tells himself - as long as he comes back.

"Air Force One!"

Motochika blinks and looks up and sees Mouri at the top of the stairs leading out of the park - ready to jump or fall or both. It's the first time the taller man feels panic, so he stubs his cigarette and hurries closer to where Mouri is. 

"I'm coming up, Mouri. Don't move, okay?"

This time he wishes he could fly, to get this done faster.

But he's got his limitations the same way this friendship has limitations. He bites his lip and ten more steps and he's there; although Mouri cannot wait forever so he jumps right into Motochika. And all Motochika can do is open his arms wide, wider than he ever has, wider than he ever will.

The pull of gravity deems them forunate and Motochika's got a body that even a Mini Cooper cannot move.

When Mouri lands against him - Motochika hears nothing, the soundless settling of a Hummingbird against a Cedar Tree: Motochika embraces him, holds him longer than he ever has before - bowing close to shelter him from the cold night's air. And in that moment Mouri finds solace, closing his eyes against this warm, over-sized human being, his cheek pressed against his steady heartbeat.

In all the years they've been friends they've never been this close. And it's probably a one-time thing. He thinks that this could be the very reason he's stuck around for so long. The very reason why he can live through the bad and bland days in the apartment they share.

 

*

 

Motochika wishes there'd be more days like these...

...but Mouri once more flutters, needs to be some place else.


	6. Miles To Go

Sasuke's confession rocked Yukimura's world. Literally. 

It's waking up just a little bit confused and happy and complete - reaching for that mobile phone to check if there are any messages authored by Sasuke made just for him. It's going down for breakfast and putting an effort behind his appearance unlike...let's say...two weeks ago. His world is slowly shifting and he can feel the tremors to the bone.

Of course, the messages from Sasuke are short and concise - eat your breakfast, drink your vitamins and don't be late for school. That's it. Of course, breakfast means eating by himself because his father, Sasuke and Mouri have all eaten and are probably miles into their work target for the day. Sasuke is a student like him and from the office he goes directly to school, arriving even before Yukimura does. 

It's safe to say that since Sasuke's somewhat confession - they haven't really done anything together. It's not like they have to intentionally do things, it's not like being a couple has to follow a standard aesthetic manual. Because it doesn't. They let the years speak for them, they let things happen as it may, because there's school and responsibilities and about a thousand other things that a teenager thinks he goes through each day.

Getting out of the car, Yukimura heads straight to the gymnasium where Kendo training is held. He might catch Date Masamune and spar with him a little - at least - Kendo spins some kind of normalcy in his weird shifting world. At least Kendo is constant and a reliable escape from all the things he cannot quite figure out just yet. It's something he is good at.

"Sparring?" It's Sasuke sitting on the stairway.

"The usual." Yukimura smiles and he's not in a panic, his heart doesn't race. He is simply happy to see Sasuke there because later he won't be. He'll be back at work at his father's company and he'll be left to his own devices.

"Here." Sasuke hands him a tall tumbler - its contents - a combination of strawberry, kiwi and orange from the local shakes and beverage stand across the school. "See you tonight, I have History in five." He smiles easy and begins to walk away.

Holding the cold glass, Yukimura watches him go, eventually sipping the contents and delighting in its freshness. But the straw falls away from his mouth when he sees Sasuke stop walking and double back to where he is. 

 

*

Yukimura's probably got miles to go before he gets used to certain things like relationships and *this* kind of attention from Sasuke. Miles to go before he fully feels comfortable being kissed this way, pressed against the wall of the gym's storage rooms. The cold tumbler's still in his hand though the tips of the fingers holding it have started to go numb. Miles to go before he accepts the fact that a person's body can both feel intense heat and cold.

"I thought you had history..." He says a bit breathless.

"Being tardy just this once doesn't mean the end of the world."

Sasuke leans in one last time to kiss him before pulling away - the smile on his confident face saying - he was well worth being late for.


	7. On to better days!

When Mori's in a bad mood he tends to ignore Motochika, when Mori's in a bad mood he tends to criticize him. Sometimes he does this to ignore his own shortcomings and other times it's because Motochika presents himself - an easy and willing target. 

Today is one of those days - when Mori sees everything and criticizes Motochika from his hair down to his shoes and everything else that goes in between. They sit at the table and Motochika thinks that he's about to shrink and disappear from the venomous comments. It's not even 8 AM yet; an all new record for his friend.

"...and I don't understand you. You're what? Almost thirty and you drink something like that? What is that? It cannot even decide if it wants to be Milk or Not Milk." With disdain Mori looks at the tall glass in Motochika's hand - the smooth shiny liquid that is Chocolate Milk defenseless under Mori's scrutiny.

"Will you leave it alone? It's chocolate milk. It can be what it wants to be. Lay off, Mori." It's probably the first time in a long while that Motochika's answered back and it catches Mori offguard, the shorter of the two looks at him defiantly and lifts his chin

"It's an unhealthy product aimed towards the unknowing, unthinking portion of the population..."

"Welcome to the Real World." Motochika says in fake-Morpheus accent, sagely telling Mori that he took a while to catch on.

"Ugh! You are hopeless Motochika." Mori narrows his eyes and slams a palm on the table before walking away from the table, from breakfast, from their apartment and from Motochika.

 

*

 

Driving to work (Motochika owns a Jeep, Mori would rather take the train than be caught riding in the "hideous thing") he pulls out his mobile and goes on voice dial. "Maeda Keiji" Motochika orders the gadget - that aptly dials the number.

"On your way to work?" Keiji asks happily, answering the call.

"Yes."

"Oh you don't sound like you're in a good mood."

"I'm not. Got ragged on for -just- existing."

"Ouch...maybe a new apartment - somewhere you can live alone?"

"Maybe. I'll live a longer life for sure. God, what is wrong with us, Maeda?"

"Wish I knew, Motochika."

"I know. Pouring out on the freeway, catch you at work. Bye."

 

*

Keiji looks at his mobile and smiles sadly at the inanimate object. Truth be told he knew what was wrong but also knew that it's not up to him to figure it out. That's Mori and Motochika's job. He's got relationship problems of his own anyway.

Two words, Motochika, two words: Sexual Tension.


	8. We Love The Nightlife

Easy as it was to sneak in a pack of Beck's at work, Keiji thinks that the real challenge was getting away with drinking it without either Sasuke or Mouri finding them out. Of course, Motochika's the willing accomplice. It's a Friday evening and they should be out on the town partying, but with a campaign coming up that's not likely to happen. 

But a campaign and their respective duties shouldn't stop them from enjoying a can or two - fuel for the midnight shift. The Creative Department has it easy (as Mouri likes to put it), but not a lot of people know the amount of thinking it takes to come up with attractive taglines and visuals in order to promote an artist/show. Right now, they are taking a break from that. Motochika pops open a can of mixed nuts and chips. Keiji tosses him a can and they relish the silence of an unused conference room - complete with a view - overlooking citylights. They dim out the lights for full effect.

"We should be out there partying. Bistro 101's got a Friday Special..."

"I should be out there getting laid."

"Keiji, you get laid every night."

"Not tonight!" Maeda laments.

And it makes both of them laugh at how being a grown up gets in the way of fun. The golden city is alluring and if they finish their work, they might still be able to catch the last wave of the Friday parties. Motochika is not holding out for much hope. He's head of creative and he needs to look over everything that his team finishes tonight.

"If you finish that document tonight, I'll cover for you and you can leave."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"I dunno. Mouri might start calling me and I won't enjoy the evening after all."

"I told you, I'll cover for you."

Keiji looks at Motochika and smiles a bit suspicious. "You never seem to mind his foul temper..."

"I have gotten used to it."

"Well then, I cannot refuse the offer. I'll finsih it after this break and then I'm off..."

"Alr..."

The lights flip open before Motochika can finish what he is saying and the sudden burst of light is blinding - the glass drowning in it and the beautiful reflection of the city's nightlife is replaced by a frowning Mouri. Both Keiji and Motochika hesitate to look back, eyes transfixed on the reflection.

Keiji's eyes filled with terrified dread at being caught with alcohol at work...by Mouri.

Motochika's eyes filled with something else entirely.

Mouri glares at them regardless - "No one is leaving the office until all the work is done."


	9. Let's give this jealousy a name...

"The representative from Osaka records fainted while in a meeting with Chousokabe and Maeda. I think he's okay now and that they've called their company to have them pick him up. I don't think he needs to be brought to the hospital." Mouri quietly reports to the president of their company. 

 

He is inside his office, leaning on the glass panel that overlooks most of the people in his Division. It is the same spot where he watched things happen - quietly observing the usual activity at the office, the brainstorming going on at the conference room and how everyone just got up from their seats with a look of worry on their faces. Mouri thinks that he needs to get in touch with reality again having taken too long to actually realize that something was wrong - wasn't until he saw Motochika carrying Hanbei to a vacant waiting couch and ordering everyone to stand back/give him some air/find a goddamn fan.

Mouri doesn't quite understand what he's feeling - should be proud that his subordinates were very considerate and accommodating and while Hanbei is a rival professionally, he's also one of the few people whose work ethic impresses him. Maybe it's got something to do with having company time wasted. That if Hanbei wasn't feeling well then he should not have showed up to begin with, could have sent another person to do the work. Mouri tries to force himself away from panel, but it feels like his shoulder is wedged to the corner.

He should go back to work. He should go back to his calculations and meetings and phonecalls. He should not be watching Motochika run about the floor trying to make Hanbei as comfortable as possible. Motochika should just pass that glass of orange juice to one of his minions and go to his (Mouri's) office to report everything that went down during that short meeting. Hanbei is not a friend after all, not an employee of thei company.

There should be limits.

As Motochika passes his office, eyes focused ahead and not even noticing Mouri standing there - the Vice President angrily knocks on the glass - triumphant in finally catching the Creative Head's attention. Mouri motions for Motochika to come in his office, glaring at him for good measure.

 

"Go back to work. Assign some intern of yours to attend to Hanbei."

"Uh, no. The guy passed out from exhaustion during a meeting held in my department. The guy's not just an employee of Osaka, he's the goddamn VP. What's wrong with you?" Motochika rarely talks back but Mouri's lack of a sensitivity cell irks him today. 

"He's not our responsibility."

"He's a human being. He was also a classmate of yours, right? Have a heart." Motochika feels like this conversation will drag on so he gingerly places the glass on Mouri's desk and defiantly places his hands on his hips as he stares back with one good eye at his friend.

"Right now I'm on the clock so excuse me if I have no desire to waste company time."

"Oh right. I forgot. We go mechanical when we're at this office."

"Stop being cheeky, Chosoukabe Motochika."

"Here's what I'll do. I'll leave it to you. This is the drink he asked for, do something human for once and bring it to the guy." Motochika knows well enough that Mouri detests taking orders from anyone (except the Boss) and if there is something he hates more than that it is Motochika ordering him around. And Motochika was hoping that it would make Mouri drop the conversation.

He just was not counting on Mouri slamming his hands on his desk and swipe at the hapless glass.

 

"I'll pretend that you're having a really bad day and that what you did was unintentional." 

Motochika takes a step back and turns to leave the office - his shirt, his trousers and shoes sticky with the spilled orange juice. It takes everything in him not to slam the door. Outside, Maeda is waiting and when he sees Motochika his eyes grow big and wander back into, through the glass separating Mouri from the rest of them.

 

Mouri looks on. Mouri does not move.

"You idiot. I am having a bad day."


	10. You try and You try and You try

Retail therapy is not only for women. Motochika is living proof of this. 

He chews on the straw of the slushie he brought from 7-11 as he moves the shopping bags from one hand to another, reaching in his pocket to get his keys. As he tries to open the front door, the panel quietly opens and dim lighting from inside the apartment pours out into the hall. It lures Motochika in and after closing the door behind him, he reaches for the empty cup and opens his mouth to release the straw he's been biting on.

Mouri goes back to reading after opening the door for his roommate.

Motochika watches him for a while, contemplates on whether he should confront Mouri about what happened at work that day. He finally decides on a peaceful, quiet, non-confrontational night and instead of getting making a pit stop by the counter to check his messages, he goes straight to his room.

Mouri follows him and Motochika can hear the quiet and careful footsteps behind him - the taller man stops just as he is about to enter his room. "Is there anything I can help you with, Mouri?"

The other man silently looks at him and then those eyes venture lower to his stained t-shirt and jeans. It's not as if Motochika is waiting for an apology, because he's not an idiot and he didn't hold on this long and not learn anything about the other man. It's not in Mouri's nature to apologize for anything. 

"You left work earlier than expected. I hope you know that this will reflect on your quarterly review."

"It's not like I'm running for employee of the year." Motochika says without venom in his voice.

"One of their drivers came, I walked with Hanbei to the basement parking."

"I'm glad that he's doing alright."

Motochika wonders why he's still here, why he lets Mouri wind him up so bad and tick him off this much...all for what? For something indescribably inane. He doesn't really encourage more conversation since he's still upset over what happened - the Incident - as he likes to call it in his head.

"Tell Maeda he's just as guilty and leaving work during work hours is not acceptable."

"He's not stupid I'm sure Keiji knows that much."

Motochika opens his bedroom door and steps in and quietly closes the door - only the latch does not connect - Mouri's hand pushing the panel back...back...so he can prevent Motochika from closing it.

"What is it, Mouri?" Motochika tosses the shopping bags on the floor before facing the other man. "Because if there's nothing then I would really like to rest. I'm tired and I am not in the mood to go another round of fighting with you. I'm not paid by the company to do that and if it's somehow in my job description I am going to sue and demand for overtime pay."

Motochika is the only one - in Mouri's opinion - that can make rants sound so pleasing and funny and less serious than they are. It makes him smile just a little. Part of him, also pleased to know that he's the only one that riles him up this much. 

"I hope that whatever you bought there is worth getting reprimanded for leaving work early."

"It was worth it." Motochika says.

"Vintage sneakers..." Mouri guesses.

"Give me a goddamn break, Mouri. Different strokes for different folks. It makes me happy. for once please do not trivialize me or what I like doing."

"I see. I'll try. Anything else you bought?"

"Yeah..."

"What is it?"

"Maybe next time. I'm really tired."

And out of all the days that Motochika's let Mouri close the door on him - this one time he's the one that shuts Mouri out.


	11. Drifters Know Dreams

Some things last forever, some seem to last forever, some can last forever. 

That's today's word play. 

Mouri knows that it isn't advisable to start the day like this, that he should be doing his morning run to the tune of Lighthouse Family's "High" - buy some ciabatta from that bakery down the street - come home - read the paper and then have his breakfast. Mouri should not be crumpled in a chair, angry and defiantly looking at Motochika. This is not how it's supposed to go. Because on a normal day, Motochika would still be asleep - Mouri knows this well...

The taller man would wake up around 9Am, lazily drift around the house, find his way to his jeep through osmosis and stop by Starbucks for his daily Macchiato. That's how it should be. Mouri thought that after their encounter at work, things would slowly blow over and they could go back to the way they were.

How that is, Mouri cannot remember right now.

It was rather strange finding Motochika up so early, watching television as he was packing some books - visual, graphics, photo books that the other man so loved. Mouri thought of it as spring cleaning. Not /this/.

"Why are you leaving? Why are you moving out?"

"I'm not moving out immediately all I'm doing is packing ahead of time so when I move out at the end of the month."

Mouri grimaces and slams his fist on the surface of the table. In all honesty, Motochika wasn't counting on this reaction. He stops packing his stuff and sets a stack of books on the other side of the table.

"Keiji's moving - he needs someone to share the rent with him. With what we make a combined effort wouldn't dent our pockets that much. With what you make keeping this apartment would be a piece of cake..."

"That's not my point!" Mouri yells at him and he seldom yells.

"Then what is the point? Tell me Mouri. Come on. I'm a little lost here."

"It's...you're choosing HIM over ME?" Mouri says and suppresses the urge to flip the table.

"Oh just listen to yourself! It's not about you! It's not about YOU!" Motochika glares at him.

And Mouri simply cannot find reason in that statement - in all the years they've known each other, in all the good and bad times they shared - Motochika always, always made everything about Mouri. Like Mouri's the sun and the center of the universe and all the other things and people...merely white noise. So, he can't accept the answer, can't permit himself to accept it. It would be like losing and changing everything they had ever known.

"We will still live the same city and..."

Mouri does not let him finish

"NO! NO! NO!" And then a semi-table-flip happens.

"Mouri!"

But he's no longer there, the door to his bedroom slamming shut.

Motochika does not believe that he's spoiled Mouri beyond repair, he does not believe Mouri is spoiled at all.

 

*

Mouri stays home and tells his secretary to send all his immediate work files via email. But he does not have his laptop open, he's laying down and absently watching the Lifestyle Network - something about Martha baking a really scrumptious looking one-crust fruit pie. Mouri barely remembers the ingredients and the procedure.

There is a knock at his door...that he ignores.

So Motochika lets himself in and walks up right next to Mouri's bed and places a big mug on the nightstand. 

"Chamomile Tea, relax a little. Are you still pissed?"

Mouri can't help but roll his eyes at Motochika's diction, not allowing himself to even look in his direction. Mouri tells himself that Martha's far more interesting than Motochika. Martha's an ocean of knowledge and Motochika's nothing more than a drifter in that ocean. He wants to ask Motochika this: if I apologize for what happened at the office, would you stay? He contemplates but the walls that is his pride is very hard to scale.

"I..." Mouri stops talking when he feels the bed shift and realizes that Motochika's sitting behind him. A careful glance reveals that the other man's also got his back to him staring out the window. Mouri closes his mouth, settled back down, half-hugging a pillow, half-pressing so they are back to back.

"Don't take it out on Keiji too...it was my idea." Motochika says.

"Do you hate being around me that much?" Mouri says.

"That couldn't be more untrue."

But it's the way Motochika said it, the sadness behind the words and how he sighed at the end of the sentence. Whatever verbal ammunition that Mouri's got prepared is decimated by Motochika's honesty. Mouri feels like he's leaning back against a warm stone wall. Because that's what Motochika's always been like for him. Without that wall - the delicate design of his life can easily sway and crumble. This line of thought does not help his cause; so when Motochika moves to walk out of the room, Mouri is swift to reach out for him - stopping him - fingers wired around Motochika's wrist.


	12. Lights in the sky

"It's been ages since I saw this advertisement. How old is this magazine anyway?" 

 

Mitsunari sits on the couch opposite the love seat that Hanbei is occupying. He is flipping through a magazine: Rolling Stone, June 1988. And he is referring to an old Kool-Aid commercial that has that giant red pitcher that's running around and scaring the heat away. He turns the magazine carefully to show the other man.

"Ah, that's from the office. It belongs in the archives."

"I see. Well is there anything significant here..."

"Not really. Just research...Ishida...why are you here?"

Hanbei smiles and takes off his glasses making him look much younger without the heavy frames. He faces Mitsunari and smiles at him. He's been working with the other man since Mitsunari graduated from college, treats him more like a protege than an ordinary apprentice.

"You fainted because you work too hard and you don't rest enough."

"I'm fine, really."

"No you're not." Mitsunari's brows knitted and mouth pursed to a straight line. "It's not going to go away. I know that...but you shouldn't push it. You really shouldn't."

Hanbei smiles and shakes his head a little. "Are you not my secretary? When I am not around you need to be there to support Hideyoshi in my place, right?"

Mitsunari agrees but he only nods and clasps his hands silently.

"Ishida..."

"Yes, Boss. I'll head to the office immediately as long as you promise to sleep." Mitsunari notices that dusk has given way to evening and the city begins to light up, mirroring the stars in the sky.

"I'm already half-way to dreamland as we speak." 

Hanbei smiles and Mitsunari stands up - walks over to the other man's side and touches his shoulder lightly. 

"I'll call when I get there."

"But I'll be asleep..." Hanbei says, relaxing when he sees Mitsunari quirk the corners of his mouth as if smiling.


	13. Bullet proof, we are not

'I think you and I will get along just fine...' 

It's funny how one remembers the mundane things when a relationship has ended or is about to end. They are not lovers and yet Mouri feels like something has given way, that Motochika has opted for another kind of life than the life they both shared for as long as he can remember. He knows that he'll never find a friend like him, a friend that doesn't quite give up on him even when the rest of the world has. Mouri knows himself more than anyone - and that it takes a lot for someone to understand him.

All the other gradeschoolers made up their own reality around him, since they couldn't be friends with him then they sought out to destroy him. It was the only way to conquer and be the king of the hill. And though he knows it's mostly because of his own issues, he's also made it a point to make it clear that he's just being himself. All those years ago, a young and slightly smaller Motochika had come up to him and told him that they'll be just fine. That he could see them being friends forever. Motochika became what was known as Mouri's shadow, he helped Mouri build a tough enough wall to keep doing what he wanted to do, the confidence to walk on and just be himself.

'There's nothing wrong with being who you are. I think it's great.'

So where did it all go wrong?

When did the walls bear cracks? When did Motochika stop wanting to be that wall?

Mouri watches as Motochika walks around the apartment, gathering his things. The perfect contrast - where Mouri's belongings are high-class and cultured; Motochika's are funky and wild. It gave the apartment character, life and (surprisingly) structure. Now that Motochika's moving away and taking away everything that made the space 'motochika' -- everything will fall apart, like a house of cards set against the rolling winds.

He sets his champage flute down one of the end tables and shakes his head when Motochika drinks straight from the bottle - how uncouth. He wanted to smack him upside the head. Because it only shows this: Motochika's affected him in many ways, but he has not left an impression on the man. Where he's started listening to British Poprock Music, Motochika still resists listening to Platinum Jazz. Where Mouri's tried out Irvine Welsh, Motochika still hasn't touched that copy of Rimbaud he gave him long ago.

Mouri sits in one of the armchairs weighing down the jacket that Motochika's about to pick up.

They look at one another and Mouri tries hard to smile, but it does not come through. Because it feels like he cannot see him, just see through him. So to make sure he reaches out and touches his cheek to make sure that he's there. He knows he's had quite a lot to drink, he knows that he's said a lot of hurtful things, he knows that Keiji's been a better friend all this time because Motochika never really wanted anything more than to be able to make Mouri happy. And Mouri is good at hiding but now he wants to say -- he wants to say -- that all this time he's been very happy and that within these walls he feels safe and he wants to ask

'Why are you giving up?'

Motochika reaches out, he almost touches Mouri's cheek but decides to ruffle his hair instead. He used to have a lot of things to ask and say and all that. But he seems to have forgotten most of them. He can see Mouri, he can feel his hand on his cheek. But he doesn't smile for him tonight. It's as if he can hear and read all those questions and he's got the answer, as if saying

'I can stand all attacks from the outside, but I am defenseless when it comes from within.'


	14. Cry Wolf

Keiji and Motochika laugh like there's no tomorrow, they laugh at the inane things and the absurd jokes in the movie they rented and mutually agreed on. They don't censor themselves because this is their apartment and there's no one to tell them what to do. It's just funny because time and again Motochika will go quiet as if expecting someone to reprimand him, tell him that civilized people don't laugh that way, that he should stop acting like a caveman.

In defense of cavemen, Keiji presented him with simple house rules: no drugs, no hookers, wake each other up in case of fire and the usual early warning if one of them were to bring home a lady friend. Of course, living happy is obligatory. It's perfect. It's as if Keiji knows what Motochika's lived with for most of his life...and he is giving him some form of reprieve.

“He's not going to come out of the closet and hit you with an umbrella, man.” Keiji says downing a beer and checking his phone for a message before going back to the movie. Motochika listens and picks up the good mood he left a minute ago. There should be no problem. He can be as loud as he wants to be. From now on...

Around eleven that night, a few minutes after the movie ends, a call comes through to Motochika's phone. Keiji's already busy making plans with someone on the phone as well as getting ready for bed. Motochika decides to take the call out in the hallway. 

“Mouri, what is it?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No. We just finished watching a movie.”

“Who was with you?”

“Uh, Keiji. I live with him now remember?”

There is palpable silence on Mouri's side as he tries not to acknowledge that fact. He purposefully changes the subject. “Anyway, I just got home and there's a leak. The faucet in the guest bathroom it's leaking. Horribly.”

First off, it does not surprise Motochika that Mouri's just gotten home. He works til late and gets carried away with all the things that need to be done that he simply just does not notice the time. Second, it does not surprise him that Mouri does not know about the faucet issue simply because he is not home often enough to do so. “I already reported that a week ago and the supervisor said that they'll get it fixed this week. Just be patient. Seems like everyone in the building gets that. It's not the faucet, it's just that the water pressure's too strong from having an extra water tank installed and...”

“I wasn't asking for an explanation. I want you to fix it. Now.”

“I can't fix it the faucet's not the problem here.”

“What if I'm sleeping and it bursts and floods all my things?!”

Motochika is tempted to state the facts and tell Mouri that the apartment is now his sole responsibility. That if his things perish in a pseudo-flood caused by a leaky faucet then it's really none of his business now. He's no longer Mouri's champion. Motochika is quite sure that he never really was. “Nothing like that will happen.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“I don't trust you.”

“Then why?! Why in god's name did you call me, Mouri?”

It's hard to say what Mouri's thinking but Motochika knows himself, at least. He knows what he's been keeping inside and the fact that Mouri calls him over every little thing does not help. He doesn't know how to say this: I'm trying so hard to get over you. I need some distance. I need you to stop calling me because hearing your voice does not help when I already think I hear your voice eventhough you are not there. Help me. Please. Mouri. I'm begging you. Stop dragging me around. I'm hurting here.

“Who else would I call?” Mouri says defiantly not really thinking about how Motochika feels. Entertaining only the things he knows: I would like to keep you hanging on. Like we've always been. Because if I do then it won't leave room for anyone else. I'd like to keep your heart racing. I'd like to make you angry enough so you can't sleep at night. You will be thinking only of me.

“I don't know. The supervisor?!! Dammit!”

“Let me tell you this Motochika – if something happens to me it will be on your conscience. If I die I will haunt you forever.” Then the line goes dead.

Motochika wants to scream and throw his phone against the wall but thinks that would be too childish even for someone like him. He does the next best thing and goes back inside the apartment where Keiji's making himself some Hot coco. “Chika, I told Nene we're up for meeting her and a friend tomorrow. Like a double-date or something. It's the weekend after all...Chika?” 

Keiji knows that he always has Motochika's full attention except when Mouri's involved. And when he sees that Motochika's barely heard him as he is busy finding his car keys and getting his coat, then that's that. He drinks the Hot Coco as he watches Motochika prepare to leave.

“Can we talk about that over breakfast? I have to go out for a bit.”

“We live on the other side of the city, you know.”

But Motochika's already opening the door – and when it closes quietly – Keiji knows that breakfast will never happen and Motochika's as hopeless as he was a week ago. He hopes that he'll never turn out that way – no matter who he ends up with, no matter how much he adores that person.


	15. Modern Life Is Rubbish

The most important lesson his father ever told him, the only one he actually remembers clearly, was that every good thing is difficult. And every good thing you want to keep, you should work hard for. Now, Motochika's working hard - half-naked in a guest bathroom and applying some sealant to address a not-really-leaky faucet in someone else's apartment. He's working hard but not exactly sure that this is what he wants to work so hard for. When he gets the opportunity to check the time, he sees that it's past two in the morning. He;s sure he'll be a zombie at work later. But at least the faucet issue's done and that's one less complaint that Mouri will call about. Sometimes, he wonders if Mouri does it out spite or if it's out of some strange affection for him. It's hard to tell.

 

*

 

Not so much as a word when he arrived at his former apartment. But he could tell then that Mouri was waiting for him because he'd open the door with under three knocks and had the hall lights open as well as that in the kitchen. There was a can of cold root beer waiting atop a coaster, still chilled and frosted on the surface. Motochika tells himself then that maybe Mouri was doing this out of gratitude; but the words that followed, orders of somewhat militant tone tells Motochika something else. Mouri misses him. He worked on the root beer first because driving from one side of the city to another is not easy, especially if he knows he has to drive back at odd hours of the morning. Then he goes on looking for supplies - the water proof sealant, flash light and an old rag to keep dry. As Motochika goes on his domestic hunt, he loses sight of Mouri or what he's doing. But he does -distinctly- hear the jingling of his car keys. Motochika is sure that Mouri's 'confiscated' his care keys, took them into custody for god knows what reasons.

"You really missed me that much, huh?" Motochika says under his breath, unable to smile.

 

*

Closing the lights and the door to the guest bathroom, he finds his way around familiar territory, snatches his discarded shirt from the back of a dining chair, puts it on while walking. Mouri is in the study; the study was once his room and realizes now that Mouri spared no time filling up the spaces that he left behind. He doesn't go in and opts to stand by the doorway.

"Problem solved, you are in charge of central follow up. Call maintenance tomorrow." Motochika says tiredly speaking in terms that he knows Mouri will respond to. Managerial jargon that will get through to him. Motochika is pretty sure that he wants Mouri to let him go or offer to put him up for the night. Whichever is fine so long as he can sleep.

"Alright." It's all Mouri says not looking up from the files he's reading.

Motochika wonders where Mouri went, that old Mouri he knew years ago: the one that smiled sometimes, the one that could take a joke, the one that was kind though aloof. This Mouri is still someone he knows but it's a strange being, not solid, like looking through a dizzying hologram. Like the real one is hiding and only flitting images of him show. Motochika nods and stands his ground.

"I need my car keys to get home, can I get them back? And I noticed I left some of my alcohol in the fridge, I'll be taking them as well." He tries to be nonchalant because they're friends and he left the apartment with nothing between them apart from the strange relationship they share. So it's not wrong to tale away all the signs that he was ever there. There was no romance to begin with, "just something like being married, like a 50-year old couple" - said Sasuke once. Back then it made Motochika laugh, right now nothing sounded funny.

"There" Mouri gestures to the keys resting on the side of the desk, daring Motochika to take it. 

Motochika sighs and casually pulls away from the wall he was leaning on and enters the room. Long limbs effortlessly take him to where Mouri is and he leans over to reach for the keys. It should be no problem for someone as tall as him, but before he can take them in his fingers Mouri swiftly snatches the keys away and tightly holds him in his fist.

"Mouri, come on. Give me the keys, please." He looks down at the seated man and he is seriously tired and there's still work tomorrow. His good eye does not waver. "I'm begging you here I still have to get home. Mouri returns his gaze and in a way tells him that if he did not move away then he wouldn't have this sort of problem. But Mouri also knows the waste of a futile argument and the last thing he wants to do is waste his own time. He does not ease up on the keys, holds them farther away when Motochika decides to be more dynamic and reaches for them with the intent of prying them out of the smaller man's hand.

"Stay the night." Mouri says clearly, quietly.

Motochika does not put up a fight, he had considered it earlier and so the answer's a no-brainer.

 

*

It's a little strange sleeping in your old apartment yet docked on the sofa instead of a regular room. Sure the couch is a big one and it's more than comfortable but that is not enough to make it not strange. He's sure Mouri is still awake in his room, probably reading until he falls asleep. Motochika can see the small slice of light seeping from under Mouri's door, stares at it, entranced by it until he feels his consciousness slip away. 

Mouri gets up from his bed and quietly opens the door of his bedroom - lamp light slowly filling the hall and illuminates the living room, he can see Motochika's shape, sleeping in the large sofa. Mouri looks on, the details don't matter. Just the big picture. Motochika's there. He walks towards him, padding quietly and hovers near the other man. Motochika snores lightly as usual, it would be strange for someone as tall and bulky as him, not to. Mouri holds out his hand, determined at first, but stopping an inch from Motochika's cheek -- 

"You foolish man."

He remembers Motochika holding him so close once..., but maybe he dreamed that up since he wasn't sober. But then again he wouldn't feel this troubled by Motochika leaving their home, he wouldn't feel so defeated if Mouri did not believe that they had a fighting chance.

 

*

Motochika has to pee at the wee small hours of the morning, usually before dawn, usually because he drinks a lot of soda or fruit juice before bed. And so he has to use the guest bathroom, the reason why he isn't at his new apartment to begin with. He rolls to his side in order to switch on a lamp or something. He finds that he does not have to because there is light coming from Mouri's room with the door slightly open. Motochika checks on Mouri first since it's not his habit to leave his bedroom open, it's when Motochika peers in that he spies the last movements of Mouri rolling to his side, his back to Motochika. "Mouri are you awake?" The non-rhythmic rise and fall of the smaller man's shoulder tells Motochika that he isn't.

Motochika decides to just roll with it. "I guess you're sleeping." Before quietly shutting the door. When he turns it dawn on him that this angle is mighty convenient for viewing anyone laying down on that couch. Motochika's chest hurts just a bit as he walks to the bathroom. He knows he's a little bit happy right now, happy enough to smile in the dark. "Mouri you idiot..."


End file.
